


On the tip of his tongue

by planetesastraea



Series: Of fingers, tongues and toes [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Betaed, Bisexual Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Blow Jobs, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Character Study, Developing Relationship, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Communicating, Hand Jobs, M/M, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Wordcount: Over 10.000, and also pizza (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29223981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planetesastraea/pseuds/planetesastraea
Summary: "As soon as he had run into Geralt at the bar, Jaskier had been both mindlessly infatuated and completely unsure what to expect. Geralt's enthusiasm for learning to give head was definitely one of the things he didn't see coming."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Of fingers, tongues and toes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145231
Comments: 71
Kudos: 236





	On the tip of his tongue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow up to _On the tip of his fingers_. I would suggest you read it before pursuing with this fic or else you might miss some references, question some jokes and miss some feelings!
> 
> THANK YOU to my wonderful Witcher Writers group chat and their unique gift for aggressive love. You are an amazing band of nerdy slugs and I love all of you so much <3
> 
> And a giganormous thank you to me #1 cheerleader. This fic wouldn't be what it is (no, really) without the incredible help of @BlaireSeton. I don't think I can put into words how thankful I am for having the chance to work with you. Your enthusiasm and encouragements were a significant part of what kept me going. Your patience is probably what kept YOU going and I admire that a lot as well 😁  
> Blaire writes her own fics and they are fantastic, go check out her work!

That morning Jaskier got woken up by a soft but firm hand on his shoulder and a husky voice saying his name.

"Hmmf?" was his very articulate reply, definitely worthy of the  _Creative Writing_ and _Composition in Medieval Times_ professor he was.  _“Three words or less,”_ he would always say to motivate his students to answer questions during class and to start a conversation. Damn, they would have been proud. 

"I gotta go," the deep voice whispered and the previous evening suddenly came back to Jaskier. Geralt. Wow.  _Geralt_ . He sat up and blinked a few times before realising his eyes  _were_ open but the sun wasn't up yet. Geralt was but a silhouette in the dark, his smell a mix of long-forgotten aftershave and well remembered sex. 

"Mmokay," Jaskier mumbled, rubbing one eye with his palm. "Thanks for telling me," he said sleepily. There was a pause and he realised the sentence didn’t land well. 

"Sorry. Didn't want to sneak out," Geralt replied tightly. 

"Yeano, yeah- I meant it. Sorry. Me," Jaskier said, pointing towards his own face in the dark, and thus proving the point to no one but himself, "not a morning person." 

Geralt snorted softly. Jaskier was overcome with a powerful wave of fondness and a guttural need to reach out and kiss him. Gods bless adorable bi himbos at law. 

"I should get going," Geralt said and Jaskier thought he heard some hesitation in his voice. The mattress dipped slightly as Geralt moved to stand up, and Jaskier reached out blindly. His hand found the inside of Geralt's elbow and then slid down softly to the man’s wrist, finding his palm.

"Wait," Jaskier said and Geralt waited. Then it dawned on him that he was supposed to say something . "Do you want to… see me again?" he offered, truly bringing his A-game as the (supposedly) most romantic man in the continent. (He was not boasting. It had simply been brought to his attention by many of his exes, and who was he to question the opinion of the people?) He tried not to sound too hopeful but it was too early in the morning and his acting skills needed a warm-up. After all, one couldn’t just naturally wake up  _that_ good. 

The silence stretched in a way that made him uncomfortable, especially since Geralt was practically invisible in front of him. Geralt’s fingers brushed his and something in his chest relaxed, but only for a moment. 

"I can't," Geralt started, making Jaskier's heart drop, "make promises." 

And okay that wasn't the worst he could have said but also -  _uh what_ ? "Okay? Well I- I’m not asking you to?” 

“Hmm.”

“Geralt, I- I had a really nice time with you, you know? And I'd really like to have more... nice times with you. And not just sex, I mean, yes, sex was fantastic, it  _was_ , but also, well- what I mean is, I don’t expect you to like, abandon your life or whatever, I just-” he was running out of breath. “Gosh I’m talking too much again, fuck, please, say something? I’m getting zero feedback here and you have to know I'm gonna keep talking until you cut me off-"

"Sorry,” Geralt sighed, his fingers threading between Jaskier’s. “It's just- This is... I haven't been with someone in a while and," he said with hesitation and left the sentence unfinished. 

_And never with a man_ , Jaskier thought, pretty sure of what was coming next. "Right," he said, feeling his throat tighten. Not like he wasn't used to falling for people who just didn't have the same life plan- or  _day plan_ , even. 

"But I think I would," Geralt said, "like to see you again, I mean."

“Wait, what?" Jaskier’s brain derailed. 

“I’d like to see you again?” Geralt repeated and it sounded even better the second time. 

“Oh.”

"I… had a nice time, too."

"Oh. Good," Jaskier whispered, relief washing over him and unlocking the door to yearning. He moved forward, closer to Geralt, his hand sliding up to his shoulder, finding his cheek and feeling the beginning of a stubble under his fingers. “Good,” Jaskier murmured again. Feeling Geralt lean into him was the best reward. He moved his head closer and his nose rubbed softly against Geralt's, the intimacy sweeter than some of the sex he’d had in the past. 

Geralt inclined his head slightly and pressed a chaste, tender kiss against Jaskier’s lips. 

Once they parted, phone numbers were exchanged and the soft wish of getting in touch soon was expressed - or, rather, as Jaskier put it as he walked Geralt to the door, “in touch and, well,  _in touch_ .” A freaking poet. 

-

The morning after they “had a milkshake” - as Jaskier nicknamed their first close encounter - Geralt had gone home right before sunrise to find Eskel wide awake, sitting on the living room couch, a book on his lap. Eskel had looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. “Coffee?” was all he had said and Geralt had been oh so grateful.

In the days that followed, he learned a bit more about Jaskier. He taught both poetry and musicology at university, gave private lessons, and performed with his band from time to time. Spring meant preparing finals, helping students to rehearse for auditions, and getting ready for the upcoming festivals  _The Bard_ would participate in. Between his schedule and Geralt’s, over a month had gone before they saw each other in the flesh again. But texting? Texting was definitely a Jaskier thing.

A couple of hours after Geralt had left, Jaskier had sent him a text saying  _“my bed misses you”_ . Geralt had promptly walked from one meeting to another, only realising at 6.30 pm during a phone call from Assengard, as he caught sight of the restaurant from across the street, that he had left Jaskier hanging. He tried to think of something clever on his way to pick Ciri up from her fencing class. To his surprise, his idea had worked very well on Jaskier. 

I miss my milkshake.  
  
ooh, that’s what we’re calling it?  
  


Of course, as with most things concerning Jaskier, Geralt quickly discovered, it was prone to get out of hand. The man had decided that “the milkshake” would become “a thing”. The fact that Geralt’s favourite order at  _Denise’s_ included a vanilla milkshake with cream on top was apparently hilarious for reasons Geralt could not understand. 

It’s not funny. It’s delicious.   
  
oh darling, may the stars bless your wonderful hottie’s wolf-printed cotton socks  
  
I don’t own those  
  
of course you do  
  


Since then, Geralt would receive texts from Jaskier every few days, ranging from  _“thinking of u”_ to  _“which one of these says ‘I am a 100%-responsible adult person who will turn your child into a virtuoso if you allow me to teach them?’”_ with a picture of two button-down shirts attached. 

Navy blue will bring out your eyes.  
  
wait is there a fashionista hidden under that shirt of yours  
  
You know what’s under my shirt.  
  
or r u just happy to see me  
  
jinx  
  
need a refresher, send shirtless pic asap  


Geralt had left him on  _read_ , the bastard.

-

After the six most frustrating weeks of his life - yes, more frustrating than the whole summer he spent sharing a flat with a Spanish model who had very loud, very heterosexual sex on the other side of their paper-thin, shared bedroom wall - Jaskier finally got his hands back on his favourite lawyer’s ass. 

They had agreed Geralt would meet him at his place that Friday after work. And so, Jaskier spent the afternoon trying to convince himself he could mark students' essays, and was  _absolutely not_ in the hellish head-space where nervousness meets horniness. (He made it through five so he counted it as a win.) 

He had changed outfits three times in two hours, and had promised Essi he absolutely was  _not_ falling for some seemingly perfect person who would then turn out to have a secret wife, three children and a dog (“Well since you’re asking, he has a very public ex-wife, one daughter, and a horse.” “A horse?” “Yup.” “What the hell?” “I have no fucking clue.”)

Jaskier was busy adjusting a sofa pillow to make it appear tidy-but-casual when the bell rang, making him jump out of his skin. 

When he opened the door, Geralt looked like he was two seconds away from running back down the stairs and disappearing forever in some mysterious vineyard near Toussaint. Geralt, being the absolute asshole that he was, also looked like a fucking god amongst humans so Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of him once again. He had almost forgotten how stunning the man was. 

"Hi," Geralt said. 

Jaskier shook himself out of his dreamy smitten state and felt a tingle in his cheeks as he blushed. "Hey, come on in," he said, waving the man inside. 

Geralt had his hair tied in a casual bun and was wearing a black winter coat way above Jaskier's pay grade. Gods, what a sight. Jaskier was  _fucked_ .

“Are you-” 

“So how’s-”

They both started and stopped at the same time, which made Jaskier laugh and Geralt shake his head as he looked away, a side of his mouth rising into a smile. Boy, Jaskier thought, if Geralt was half as fond of him as he was of Geralt, they'd be married in three years, move to a farm in five, and adopt every stray dog in the area a year after that at the latest. 

"Can I take your coat?" Jaskier offered. 

As Geralt nodded, Jaskier got his hands on the lapels of Geralt's coat, fingers absent-mindedly pressing against Geralt's chest, feeling the soft wool, and the strong pecs underneath all the layers. A moment passed and he realised Geralt hadn't moved an inch. He stopped staring at his own hand and, as he looked up, realised Geralt was looking at him. Or more like, looking at his mouth.

There was a beat and they both moved forward, catching each other's lips. 

"Fuck, is it ok to say I've missed you?" Jaskier breathed between two kisses. 

"Hmm," Geralt replied, pushing Jaskier against the door and leaving his lips to kiss and suck the skin of his neck.

"Ah, okay, I'll take that as a yes," he half-moaned and got Geralt's mouth back against his, kissing like he just couldn't get enough- because he couldn't. Geralt got rid of his coat, letting it fall onto the floor.

"M-maybe we should take a second to hang it. It looks expensive."

"It's a gift from my ex," Geralt mumbled against Jaskier’s skin, biting tentatively at his Adam's apple.

"Or we could stomp all over it," Jaskier deadpanned. Geralt laughed against his throat and Jaskier felt it resonate through his chest. 

"So you're the possessive kind, then?"

"Uh," Jaskier bit his lip, "only if that turns you on."

Geralt kissed a line up to Jaskier's ear and caressed him through his trousers as he nibbled at his earlobe. In the softest, most quiet whisper, he murmured: "It does." 

Jaskier groaned with pleasure and Geralt kissed him in earnest, his hand still fondling the man's inseam. He pressed his pelvis against Jaskier's and both moaned from the supplementary friction. 

"Let me try something?" Geralt asked against Jaskier’s lips before promptly getting down onto his knees.

"Oh, wow, okay," Jaskier gasped as Geralt went straight for his belt. "Ah- w-wait, you- you sure?"

Geralt rolled his eyes, undoing the man’s button and zipper until Jaskier’s hands came to rest softly over his. 

"No, I'm serious, you don't have to.” 

"I know,” Geralt answered, looking up at him. “I want to."

"Okay. Okay. Just stop if it's not good with you, right?"

“Right.”

He pulled Jaskier’s trousers down, not wasting any time. The curved line of his hardening cock was obvious under his underwear and Geralt slowed down, caressing the back of Jaskier’s thigh with one hand, the other moving up to his crotch. He palmed Jaskier through his boxer briefs (his  _navy blue_ boxer briefs) and was delighted to see him try to control his breathing through the surging wave of desire. 

“Take them off for me?” Geralt asked, his voice rough with arousal. 

Jaskier breathed out shakingly and slid his thumbs under the waistband, pulling his underwear down under Geralt’s relentless attention. Unable to stop himself, Jaskier took his own cock in hand and stroked himself, humming with pleasure with the first movement of his wrist. Geralt was sitting on his ankles, mesmerised. 

“You like watching?” Jaskier asked, and even though the answer was pretty obvious, Geralt didn’t say it out loud. He raised to his knees, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s thighs, every breath softly tickling Jaskier’s skin, the hand maintaining its rhythm. 

Moving upwards, Geralt’s tongue darted out to lick Jaskier’s balls, surprising him so much the back of his head hit the door, generating a moan which turned into a wince and then back into a moan again. Geralt’s smile shaped the kiss he pressed on Jaskier’s thigh as his fingers brushed through the man’s pubic hair, and slid up to find Jaskier’s hand, slowing it down. 

Jaskier felt Geralt’s hot breath coming closer to his cock and had to bite his lower lip when the other man’s lips brushed against his fingers, kissing them one by one, silently asking him to let go. Jaskier didn’t need much convincing until, of course, fuck his goddamn unstoppable brain, a thought occurred to him. 

“Wait!” he exclaimed and, at least, was blessed with the sight of Geralt looking up at him with surprise, his lips apart, tongue visible, and... Fuck, he looked so innocent and yet devilishly hot like this. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Just- safety, right? You can, uh, get STIs. From, you know, sucking off someone unprotected. So you should be safe, you know.”

“Uh,” Geralt frowned. “Do you have STIs I should worry about?”

“No, I’m clean. I just mean, you know, in general.”

“I don’t need sex ed, Jaskier.”

“I know," he said, unconvincingly. "I’m just saying. Cause, like, it matters, and, you... well, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded even though he didn’t really. “Anything else?” he asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly. 

“Well, you shouldn’t take my word for it.” 

“What?” Well, he only had himself to blame, right? He did ask. 

“That I’m clean. I mean you can’t take people’s word for it, sometimes people just-”

“ _Jaskier._ I've slept with strangers before,” Geralt said bluntly, missing the brief pained look on Jaskier’s face at being classified as  _a stranger_ . “You’re clean. I’m clean. If you’re fine with this, I’m fine with this.”

“Yes. Yeah, I am. I am. Sorry,” Jaskier shook his head. “Did I just ruin it? It’s just, it matters you know, so I figured-”

“Jask. I get it. It’s fine,” Geralt said, rubbing his thumbs on each of Jaskier’s hip bones. “Can I suck your cock, now?” he asked softly. Jaskier’s worries disappeared from his mind instantly, and he nodded enthusiastically about twelve times above the consent limit. 

Geralt took him into his hand and stroked him, slowly but firmly, further limiting his brain’s already diminished access to oxygen. Geralt’s other hand had reached out to fondle his ass and his fingers began to lightly drum along the back of Jaskier’s thigh, brushing softly, ghosting against his skin, and sending a brand new kind of sparks of  _want_ to Jaskier’s cock. 

After a few strokes, Geralt brought his lips to the base of Jaskier’s shaft, kissing the hairs in a way one could have described as chaste if it hadn't been happening so close to another man's dick. He then proceeded to drop fuller kisses on the soft skin of Jaskier’s cock, pressing his lips against the skin almost reverently as his hand kept working Jaskier. When he was satisfied with the soft noises and the sound of fast breathing above him, he guided his hand back to the base of Jaskier’s cock, pumping a few times before guiding the tip of Jaskier’s dick to his mouth as he  _licked_ . 

“Fffuck-” Jaskier gasped, and Geralt smiled. 

Wetting his lips, he opened his mouth and wrapped it around the very tip of Jaskier’s cock, kissing it wetly, his tongue running against the underside. He let go, only to kiss the side of the head with an open mouth and then took Jaskier's cock again. 

As soon as he had run into Geralt at the bar, Jaskier had been both mindlessly infatuated and completely unsure what to expect. Geralt’s enthusiasm for learning to give head was definitely one of the things he didn’t see coming. 

Geralt’s hand fondled his butt cheek again. As he pressed the tip of his fingers lightly against his sacrum, Jaskier sighed and angled his pelvis forward the way Geralt’s hand invited him to. Geralt took a slow breath through his nose, obviously trying to relax as much as he could as he moved forward, taking in a little more of Jaskier in his mouth and sliding his lips over the ring of Jaskier’s cock. 

“Oh,” escaped from Jaskier’s lips as Geralt drew back slightly and took more of him again. “Oh darling, oh, yes, that’s good,” he stammered, caressing Geralt’s cheek before drawing back and slapping his hand against the door to ground himself and to restrain from grabbing the back of Geralt’s neck. 

Geralt groaned softly at the loss, reaching out for Jaskier’s hand, closing his eyes as soon as he felt Jaskier’s touch again. He moaned as he kept sucking him slowly, clearly enjoying the guiding hand on his cheek.

“Oh, darling,” Jaskier moaned. His thumb rubbed softly against Geralt’s stubbly cheekbone before his hand slid against his cheek and jaw encouragingly. “Oh, that’s good, yeah that's- Keep going, love,” he whispered again. 

Biting his lower lip, Jaskier kept caressing Geralt's cheek, whispering sweet nothings and sliding his fingers through the other man's hair, convinced Geralt would have purred around his cock if he could. 

"That's really good, sweetheart," and as Geralt enthusiastically took him a tad deeper, he just couldn't help himself. "Oh, that's my  _good boy_ ," he moaned and Geralt all but choked on his dick. 

Pulling back and resting a hand against the floor, half-slipping on his discarded coat, Geralt coughed and tried to get his breath back from choking on his own spit.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry-" Jaskier kneeled by him hastily - and  _heavily_ . Having his jeans pooled around his knees wasn’t exactly helping him be graceful. "You alright?" 

"Fine," Geralt rasped, a bright shade of pink all over his face. He coughed again. 

"Do you need a drink or something?"

Geralt laughed brokenly through a cough. "To help me forget I could have bitten your dick off?" he asked and Jaskier huffed. 

"Don't be silly," he smiled, brushing away the hair across Geralt’s face as he leaned to kiss him. "This cock has seen worse."

"That's always comforting," Geralt mumbled against his lips. 

Jaskier laughed and caught his lips into another kiss, enjoying the way Geralt sighed comfortably, and held on to the back of his neck. His hand wandered to find the hem of Geralt’s shirt and slipped under his waistband before he arrived at a bright idea. "What if - and I know it's going to be a very bold, and novel concept, but hear me out - what if we stopped using my front door and living room floor as acceptable fucking surfaces and straight out moved to the bed?" 

"Hmm," Geralt mused falsely. "Didn't know there was anything straight about you," he snarked and was met with a playful slap on the breast accompanied by Jaskier's cackling laughter.

"Oh, look who's talking now!" 

They fumbled to get Jaskier back on his feet - "well I do love to spend time on my knees" - and got rid of the jeans which were annoyingly getting in their way, to then move on to the bedroom.

-

His bedroom, Jaskier decided, was absolutely  _ruined_ . Nothing would ever look better than Geralt sprawled on his bed, naked, his hard cock pressed against his lower belly. If Geralt ever decided to break things off with him - a thought which, despite people often calling him  _dramatic,_ he knew was perfectly realistic - Jaskier would have to change the room entirely. He would repaint the walls, get new furniture, burn the bed, maybe, or - to simplify - move places. No, there was no way a single soul could ever sleep on sheets which had touched Geralt’s skin without missing his presence like any respectable bard would miss their medieval lute.

At that moment, however,  _this bard_ was straddling Geralt’s lap, his arms around Geralt’s neck, while being held around his middle and kissed languorously. They were both naked, every inch of skin yearning to feel the other, and not a single thing was amiss.

“Would you like to touch yourself for me, darling?” Jaskier asked between two kisses, his voice low and syrupy. 

A groan came from the bottom of Geralt’s throat and vibrated against Jaskier’s tongue. 

“Fuck, I love the noises you make,” he whispered against Geralt’s lips, catching the man’s tongue in another open-mouth kiss. 

Geralt started stroking his own cock and howled, and Jaskier broke the kiss unintentionally, unable to stop smiling at the sheer bestiality of the man. 

Jaskier smacked his lips against Geralt’s a few more times as Geralt chased his mouth for more. Curving his hand around Geralt’s cheek, he kissed him one more time before slipping his thumb on his lips. He didn’t expect Geralt to kiss his finger, chastely, then lick its tip and lustfully take it in his mouth. Jaskier didn’t sigh as much as he  _whined_ . 

“Would you prepare yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, making his intentions clearer, his voice a bit hesitant but hopeful. 

Geralt let go of his thumb, letting Jaskier caress his lips lovingly. “Maybe it’s better if you do it,” he said, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s palm in an obvious attempt to hide his face. 

“Is it?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt closed his eyes, something like regret written on his face. 

“I’m not very good at it,” he grimaced. 

“You’ve done it before?” 

Geralt hummed, uncomfortable. “Since last time,” he clarified. “It didn’t really- I don’t know, maybe it’s not my thing,” he shrugged, still avoiding Jaskier’s eyes. 

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered, his voice coated with kindness, unable to stop himself as he tipped Geralt’s chin up and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. “You can’t become a virtuoso on the first try,” he said. 

Geralt frowned but then hid his discomfort behind a playful look. “Are you saying my ass is a musical instrument-”

“Shush, you!” Jaskier giggled. “I’m trying to be serious, for once!” he chastised him. 

Geralt snickered and hid his face back into Jaskier’s hand, softly kissing his wrist. 

“Maybe you had one of the best orgasms of your life the first time you rubbed one out but  _we_ , regular human beings, had to work for it," he paused for more dramatic flair. “L _ong_ and  _hard_ and  _again_ and  _again_ …” he wiggled his eyebrows and Geralt snorted. “We learn what feels good and what doesn’t. Just because you’re ol-” Geralt gave him a pointed look “ _-der_ doesn’t mean you don’t need to get to know yourself.”

“Nice save,” Geralt deadpanned. 

“I know, right? Almost seamless,” Jaskier smiled back, clearly full of shit, and went in for a kiss. 

“Hmm,” Geralt sighed. “I think I’d rather-” he hesitated, “get on with it, you know.”

“Get on with it?” It was Jaskier’s turn to raise an unconvinced eyebrow. 

“Yeah, just get it done.”

“My, what a romantic you are,” Jaskier snickered and Geralt rolled his eyes, trying to make amends by rubbing Jaskier’s skin with his thumb where his hand rested on his hip. 

“You just said it, first times suck. I just gotta- get through it and then, well. Hopefully, we get to the good stuff.”

“G- _get through it_ ? You know this isn’t CrossFit, right?”

Geralt snorted. “You know what I mean,” Geralt said, then bit his lip as he frowned, pressing his forehead against Jaskier’s. “You know I’m not-,” he waved his hand, “good at this.”

“Words?”

He puffed. “Yeah, words.”

“Yeah, I got that. I hear you.” Jaskier smoothly brushed a strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear. “There’s something else I heard.  _‘First times suck’_ ? Well challenge accepted, my dear,” he said and Geralt laughed as he kissed him again. 

Geralt let himself be slowly pushed down to the bed as they kissed, his hands moving up Jaskier’s back, feeling the muscles along the way. His hand reached the back of Jaskier’s neck, covering it for a moment before he buried his fingers into the man’s hair as they softly ground against each other. 

Jaskier slid his hand between them, giving both of their cocks a pull before moving lower. “Raise your legs for me, darling?” he asked in low tones, sliding his hands under Geralt’s knees. He could feel Geralt slightly tensing up as he set his feet to the mattress. It didn’t feel like it had anything to do with the scar Jaskier had brushed with his fingertips. 

“Shouldn’t I be on my hands and knees?” he asked in a breath while Jaskier’s hands found their way back to his chest. 

“You could,” he kissed a spot on his jaw, caressing Geralt’s pectoral. “You don’t have to.” 

“Wouldn’t it be easier?” his voice was fairly tight and Jaskier faintly wondered if it was any clue to the state of his ass- and then kept the thought  _very much_ to his stupid dick-jokes self. 

“Nah, not necessarily,” he whispered, trying to make his hands into a calming, solid presence against Geralt’s skin, caressing his breasts, his ribs, his clavicles, lining his scars with the care they deserved. Whichever God carved this man’s body, Jaskier swore to worship them until the end of his days. 

“It can be straining to hold that position. Also...” Jaskier raised himself to face Geralt, picking up the man’s hand as it slipped over his shoulder and kissed the root of each finger. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it,” he said. “We don’t have to do it today.” He weaved his fingers between Geralt’s and kissed their tips. “And we don’t have to do it ever.” 

Geralt’s face became closed off as he took a slow breath in, bolting up the gates before Jaskier had a chance to read him. He raised to meet Jaskier, his hand finding the perfect place at the back of his neck, and kissed him earnestly. 

“I want you to fuck me,” he said against his lips. 

“Yeah?” Jaskier gasped. “Got you, loud and clear,” Jaskier whispered and leaned into another kiss. 

He broke away from Geralt to reach his nightstand drawer, pulling out some lube and condoms. He grabbed a pillow, invited Geralt to raise his hips and slid it underneath. 

“Now, where was I?” he said under his breath, settling between Geralt’s legs and rubbing their bodies against each other. Geralt moaned and wrapped a leg around Jaskier’s pelvis, grinding back eagerly. 

Holding his thigh with one hand, Jaskier began kissing his neck, licking and biting the skin at his throat, intending to take care of every inch of Geralt’s body. He licked one of Geralt’s nipples, extracting a moan from Geralt when he sucked and scraped his teeth against the strong muscle of his tit. Feeling Geralt slowly relax under his hands, he headed lower, kissing the pale hairy line that led from his navel to his cock. 

He squeezed Geralt’s cock gently, carefully caressing the tip with his thumb and watching the precome spread, shiny against the soft skin. He looked up at Geralt as he moved his hand steadily up and down, a spark of ecstasy jumping from his heart to his cock at the sight of Geralt, eyes closed, biting his lower lip. Every moment assured Jaskier that pleasuring this man was actually his entire life’s purpose. 

Geralt hummed with pleasure as Jaskier wrapped his lips around his cock, already struggling not to buck his hips when Jaskier took more of him in his mouth. 

Jaskier couldn’t help but hum around his dick as he took it in, playing with depth and rhythm like a true maestro, his fingers threading through the light grey curls of Geralt’s pubes. He then let go of Geralt’s cock with an obscene pop that made him laugh and licked up from the spot right above Geralt’s balls. 

Geralt’s hips stirred in both pleasure and surprise. 

Jaskier got his hands back on the lube as he kissed and licked the man’s balls, encouraged by the whines and groans that escaped Geralt’s throat. He warmed his lubed fingers against each other and caressed Geralt’s ass with what he wouldn’t deny was absolute adoration. “Can I touch you, darling?” he asked, his voice a bit rough.

Geralt breathed a “yeah” and sounded  _almost_ like he was begging but Jaskier gracefully didn’t comment on it. (He, however,  _definitely_ took note.) Instead, he slid a hand between Geralt’s cheeks and brushed a finger against his hole as his mouth drove back down Geralt’s beautifully thick cock. 

Jaskier teased a little, trying out different pressures against the man’s hole before the song of Geralt's moans left no room for doubt. He slid his forefinger in while his other hand caressed Geralt’s inner thigh and finally felt the heat of Geralt’s body wrapped around his finger. He pulled back slightly and pushed again, this time steadily driving his finger deeper, synching his hand with the movements of his neck. 

Despite Geralt’s frequent struggles with words, his gasps and moans were graced with great clarity and proved sufficient to let Jaskier know he was right to keep going. As far as non-verbal cues go, he also quickly found delight in feeling the walls of Geralt’s ass tightening around him and the taste of more precome coating his tongue.

“ _Ah_ , your mouth,” Geralt moaned, reaching out and grasping onto Jaskier’s hair. 

Jaskier closed his eyes and moaned, aching for better friction than the bit of sheet he could rub his cock against. Grabbing the lube with one hand, he couldn’t help but jerk himself a couple of times as Geralt’s hand kept pulling his hair with each bop of his head. 

Pointedly slowing down and looking up, he waited for Geralt’s attention to focus on him. He made a point of keeping their eyes locked as he shamelessly pulled up and let go of his cock. “D’you want another finger, honey?” he asked, perfectly aware of how depraved he had to look with his hair astray and his lips as probably as crimson as the tip of Geralt’s cock. 

Geralt pulled him closer and met him with a crushing kiss as he nodded and moaned against Jaskier’s brow. “Hm- wait,” he breathed, holding Jaskier back as he started to let go, “I haven’t touched you at all,” he complained, his hands cupping Jaskier’s ass in a kind but firm grasp.

“Ah- It’s alright, love,” Jaskier said. “We’ve got time for that,” he smiled against Geralt’s lips but before he could leave again, Geralt grabbed his hand. 

“I want you to feel as good as I do,” he breathed. 

“Oh, trust me, darling, I’m feeling fantastic,” Jaskier grinned. They kissed one more time before Geralt let go of him and Jaskier drove his attention back to his lover’s lower body. 

Geralt sighed as he settled his head back against his pillow, muttering something about how Jaskier was going to kill him. 

Jaskier brought one hand at the base of Geralt’s cock, put his mouth back to work and fingered him a little while longer before adding another slick finger. Geralt whined and Jaskier reached out for his hand, threading their fingers together, hoping Geralt would know it was his way of checking in before Geralt sighed “ _Yeah, s’good_ ,” in a tone that sounded pretty far gone. 

He fucked Geralt with his fingers a few tentative times and curled them softly on the way out. In case he had any doubt his fingers were brushing against the right spot, Geralt’s hips jerked, driving his cock further down Jaskier’s throat. 

“Ah,  _fuck_ ,” Geralt moaned. “Fuck, sorry,” slipped from his lips as if he was holding back so many more words. 

Jaskier squeezed his hand in reassurance and kept sucking on Geralt’s dick until he could feel him tremble. He rubbed against Geralt’s prostate, drinking in every noise leaving the man’s lips, every movement revealing his pleasure. 

“Ah, Jask,” Geralt moaned again, clutching to Jaskier’s hand like nothing would ever be able to make him let go. “Jas- Jaskier,  _ah_ , Jask, wait, I’m gonna-”

His hips buckled and his back raised from the mattress as he came, mouth open, gasping. He moaned and groaned as Jaskier kept fucking him onto his fingers until he was done spilling. 

Jaskier slid his fingers out of Geralt’s ass, unable not to pull on his own cock even as he wiped off his mouth and tried to catch his breath, resting his forehead against the soft flesh of Geralt’s hip. 

“Fuck,” Geralt whispered as he stretched, the last tingles of pleasure leaving his body. He brought his hands to his face, covering his blush and groaned “ _fuck_ ” in a wholly different tone. 

“Hey,” Jaskier gasped, slowing down the movements of his wrist and bringing his other hand to touch Geralt’s arm. “Hey, you alright?” 

“Hmm,” he groaned from under his hands. 

“What’s wrong, darling?” he asked and Geralt huffed. 

“I just came like a teenager,  _darling_ ,” Geralt mumbled, the edge of his sarcasm largely smoothed out by post-coital bliss. 

Jaskier chuckled. “No, you didn’t. You held up really well,” he said, caressing Geralt’s forearm. “My charms were simply too mighty for you to keep it in any longer,” he whispered, and kissed his other wrist and hand, hoping Geralt would emerge from his hiding place. 

Geralt groaned again, unconvinced, but let his hand slip away when Jaskier kissed his knuckles, allowing the other man to paint his cheek with the sweet brush of his lips. 

“I wanted you,” Geralt whispered, in a weak, almost plaintive way. 

“I’m still right here, love,” Jaskier whispered back. “You still have me,” he said at the corner of Geralt’s lips, pressing his mouth softly against his. He found Geralt pressing back with the same tenderness then savouring the taste his own come on Jaskier’s tongue. 

They stayed like this for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s arms, slowly kissing and holding each other. 

“Do you need me?” Geralt asked after Jaskier buckled against his hips involuntarily.

“If your schedule allows it,” Jaskier joked, hiding his face in his neck and humming as he rubbed himself against Geralt. 

“What do you want?” Geralt asked, caressing the length of Jaskier’s back, pressing his fingers along the muscles, waking up every fibre of Jaskier’s body. 

“This,” Jaskier murmured, “This is perfect.”

He rubbed himself slowly against Geralt as the man covered him in caresses, the callousness of Geralt’s hands contrasting with the softness of his gestures. He ground against Geralt’s hip lazily, welcoming the pressure of Geralt’s hands on his ass, feeling the imprint of each finger into his flesh. His cock was still smeared with lube and the mess he’d spit onto Geralt’s pelvis made for a dirty, wonderful help. 

“You look so good like this,” Geralt whispered, kissing a spot under his ear. “You feel so good against me,” he said softly, his tenderness almost making Jaskier come on the spot. 

“ _Ah_ , please, touch me,” he begged and Geralt reached for his cock like a servant knight, enthusiastically escorting him to rapture as Jaskier fucked into his hand again and again and  _again_ , his shout resonating through the bedroom as he came. 

Geralt held him as Jaskier made his way back down, their bodies sweaty and well spent, comfortably intertwined. 

After a while during which Jaskier’s mind drifted and fluttered between sleep and consciousness, he adjusted his body to kiss the side of Geralt’s jaw. 

“Care to be introduced to my shower?” he asked sleepily. 

“Hmm. Good call,” Geralt nodded, and pressed a kiss against his temple. 

-

When Geralt walked out of the shower, freshly cleaned up and smelling like Jaskier’s lemon soap, his clothes were neatly arranged on the bed. He got dressed and followed the sound of Jaskier’s humming, finding him in the kitchen frowning at some delivery menus. He was biting his lip, seeming pretty conflicted and Geralt surprised himself thinking: _shit, he’s cute._

He kept expecting to have a change of heart any minute now. It was, after all, bound to happen, the next logical step, the most probable outcome: one morning he would wake up and realise that surely this had all been fun but he wasn’t into it anymore. He just had gotten a bit confused and wasn’t actually feeling so much for this man- or any other man, or any other  _person_ for that matter. 

After splitting up with Yen, he thought he’d never grow fond of someone enough to want anything (at least anything more than sex, but even sex was quite low on his list of priorities). With Jaskier, though- it was like every other day, Geralt would find another thing he’d like to share with the handsome man who had run into him and  _insisted_ on sticking around.

"Hey,” Jaskier said, noticing him in the doorway. “So I was thinking, either  _Casa Lauretta_ or  _Athumani’s Kitchen_ , what do you think? And before you say anything-  _I know_ , take out again, but I can't both try to seduce you  _and_ subject you to my cooking."

Geralt snorted. “You’ve had me in your bed already.  _Twice._ ” he said, raising a playful eyebrow. “At what point will you consider me successfully seduced?”

“Uh, I don’t know, some time between the third dog and the second honeymoon, I guess?” Jaskier pretended to ponder.

Geralt blinked at him and his smile froze on his face. He often struggled with words to begin with but Jaskier mastered the art of leaving him speechless. Banter was his realm. Jaskier knew the terrain by heart and he revelled in it. He was light on his feet and quick on his toes. Every time Geralt tried to play his game and stepped towards Jaskier, the distance separating them seemed to grow. 

He felt like a novice trying to catch up with a man who had hiked the trail his whole life, knew its twists and turns by heart. No matter how much he tried to relax and enjoy the sights by Jaskier’s side, he still felt the man would always be ahead of him. Like he would never be able to catch up and stay stuck in the land of the new and uncomfortable. 

He cleared his throat. “What's in these cupboards of yours?" he asked, brushing past Jaskier to open a few of them. At first, the answer seemed to be both  _everything_ and  _not much at all_ . But after initial confusion, he realised Jaskier might actually have a system. 

Items weren't sorted by kind but rather by what goes well together: canned mushrooms next to rice, coconut milk next to curry powder, sliced bread between jam and mustard. He wasn't sure why "365 Lesser-known Eastern Medieval Poems" was stacked with cereals, or why Jaskier’s watch was in a bowl, but he could find out with time.

Something tickled the back of his neck and he realised Jaskier was playing with his hair, a bit of a smitten look on his face. As Geralt looked at him, Jaskier froze and blushed.

"Sorry," he said, retreating his hand. "I love your hair," he said sheepishly. 

"I lost my hairband somewhere," Geralt said, looking around. 

"It looks good like this too," Jaskier said. "Pretty sure it looks good all the time," he smiled and brushed an escapee strand of hair back behind Geralt's ear. 

And here it was: another immensely confusing thing about Jaskier. The man radiated self-confidence 99% of the time. He could bathe in the attention of a crowd, flirt shamelessly with a complete stranger and whisper the filthiest words, dirtiest things- he could fantasize out loud about getting  _married_ to a man he’d only known for a few weeks. Yet there was also a shyness about the smallest of things, a  _vulnerability_ . It made Geralt want to pick him up and take him to safety- and he was perfectly aware of how ridiculous that sounded. But it felt like maybe, Jaskier’s hidden, more reserved side was a path where they could meet halfway. 

He leaned towards him and kissed the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. "Thank you," he said.

Jaskier smiled and his whole face illuminated. "How are you feeling?" he asked. 

"Good," Geralt nodded, taking his attention back to the cupboard. And so here he was again, taking a step back on what had started to feel like a comfortable route and stiffly navigating in between the metaphorical potholes on the road leading to Jaskier. As it turned out, talking about how his ass felt after getting fingered was  _not_ Geralt’s forte either. But Jaskier - in a moment of extreme humility - had described himself as a  _master of words and rhythm_ and that’s exactly what he was. He could use any word, touch upon any topic, express any emotion. Jaskier had a whole planisphere at his disposal, a means to take any road; Geralt had shitty directions and a compass that only told North once in a blue moon.

"No pain?" 

"No," he answered, closed the cupboard and exited Jaskier's personal space to grab the menus. "Maybe delivery's better, you're right," he said. 

"Hmm," Jaskier answered. "You do that a lot," he pointed out. 

Geralt gave him a look above his shoulder. "What?"

"Changing topics. Avoiding conversations," Jaskier explained lightly. His tone was not judgemental. He was merely making an observation. 

And so, "I'm not," Geralt lied. He only realised he had lied the second he heard himself.  _Fuck_ . "I didn't realise there was more to say.” Less of a lie. Not quite a half-truth. 

Jaskier sighed softly and settled next to Geralt, pressing his forearms against the kitchen counter. "Margherita, then?" he asked. Geralt could see the tight shape of his lips and the square angle of his shoulders. Jaskier had obviously seen right through him but was dropping the subject for his sake. 

"You're disappointed," he said and Jaskier's head shot back up to look at him. 

"With the pizza options?" Jaskier joked weakly. 

“With,” he hesitated. “Me.”

“No-” Jaskier argued right away, raising his hand to cut him off. But Geralt knew how it was, what people expected, not unfairly, versus how little he could offer. 

"It’s fine,” Geralt said. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I-,” he paused to weigh his words carefully, eyes focused on the menus. "I'm not very good at-" he hesitated then snorted under Jaskier's confused look. " _Opening up_ ?" he said, raising an eyebrow in Jaskier's direction. 

Jaskier laughed and reached out to rest his hand over Geralt’s. “Well, we’ve talked about this,” he said, with a shine in his eyes. “Practice makes better.” Geralt hummed, looking at Jaskier’s hand over his. To his surprise, Jaskier retracted his hand somewhat suddenly and he missed the weight of it right away. “And it’s not like we know each other that well, as you said,” he shrugged, at the edge of Geralt’s field of vision. 

"I am ok,” he said, answering Jaskier’s previous question more honestly. “Bit weird but ok.” His brain then caught up with Jaskier’s words a moment too late;  _as you said_ ? 

"Okay,” Jaskier said, offering a shy smile. “I- it’s okay if it doesn’t come naturally to you. I just- well, I’d just like you to be more comfortable with me. But we’ll get there, right?”

Geralt swallowed, closing and opening the hand that was resting on the counter to get rid of a slight tremor. Saying  _yes_ would have been another lie. He couldn’t make that promise. He had tried before, thought that maybe if he forced himself to be enough then things would work out eventually- but they hadn’t. 

And so it would have been easy to say  _no_ , to back off entirely. He could tell Jaskier he wasn’t interested in building something, just wanted an easy fuck, to experiment a bit, and had simply gotten lucky enough to find a guy who wasn’t repelled by his shitty personality and off-putting scars. It would have been so easy- to tell Jaskier, “I don’t know what you thought you were getting out of this, but you won’t get  _me_ .” It was complete and absolute bullshit, a sad pack of lies, but it would be so much easier. He could get back to his life, his job, his kid and the handful of friends he still had, and never think about blue eyes or milkshakes again.

If only the thought didn’t make him nauseous. 

Fuck, he wanted this.

“This isn’t casual for you, is it?” he asked, voice tight, and Jaskier startled, almost taking a step back. His face made an odd succession of expressions and he opened his mouth a couple of times before closing it again. 

“I- I can be casual. I can be  _very_ casual. That’s not a problem, that’s not a- but I-,” he sighed and brushed his hand through his hair nervously. “Fuck, you really don’t fuck around, do you?” Geralt tried to come up with something to say but Jaskier shook his head, his voice way calmer now even if a bit wavering. “No. No, I don’t think I want to be casual with you. And- And you- you don’t w-”

“Me neither,” Geralt cut in before panic took over Jaskier. 

The man’s eyes grew a little wider. “You neither?” he asked, and fuck if that wasn’t the most obvious display of naked hope Geralt had ever seen on anybody’s face. 

Geralt shook his head and Jaskier seemingly had to fight a full-body shiver. 

Jaskier walked the two steps separating them and kissed Geralt with his entire soul. When he pulled back, Geralt leaned into him again for another taste of his tongue. He brought a hand to Jaskier’s cheek and kissed him with feeling. When they parted, he kept his eyes closed, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s, the tip of his fingers grazing the short hair behind his ear.

“I’m not used to wanting...” Geralt said. “Sex is good. But usually I don’t- I don’t want more. With you, I- I don’t want to ru- to  _leave_ . And it’s...” 

“Weird, isn’t it?” Jaskier offered, his voice tight but tone playful. The shy smile on his lips was a delicious cherry on top, making the teasing even softer. (Little did Jaskier know that a cherry was the only thing in Geralt's opinion that could ever improve a creamy vanilla milkshake.) 

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Geralt huffed. Jaskier kissed him, and after working through so many words, Geralt ran out of things to say. “So, yeah. Margherita’s good,” he whispered, and it was his turn to make Jaskier laugh. The man cleared his throat and sighed like a weight had been taken off his chest. 

“I can’t believe you said all that before even knowing  _Lauretta_ delivers vanilla milkshakes,” he said and Geralt poked him in the ribs until they half-wrestled, laughing, Jaskier’s back hitting the fridge- and they were kissing again. 

-

They talked over dinner for a while. Jaskier came up with questions for Geralt to answer, helping him ease into a casual conversation. They teased and flirted and laughed, and soon ended up in bed again, tasting each other’s skin and leaning into each other’s curves. 

“Full disclosure?” Jaskier whispered against Geralt’s mouth as he was straddling him. “I really fucking love those tits of yours,” he said, cupping Geralt’s chest with his two hands. Geralt scoffed in between two kisses. 

“They’re called pecs,” he said, enjoying the way Jaskier’s hands were basically venerating his chest. 

“Nuh-uh,” Jaskier replied, “I, good sir, am an artist, not an anatomist, and  _these_ are definitely some of the most magnificent  _boobies_ I have ever had the chance to see, touch and lick,” he said, brushing a nipple with his thumb while kissing Geralt’s jaw. 

Geralt snorted and kept caressing Jaskier’s incredibly precious ass. 

Jaskier sighed with contentment. “So, tell me your secret,” he mumbled against Geralt’s skin, finding a tendon in Geralt’s neck and following it with his lips, tongue and teeth. “How does a corporate lawyer get as buff as you?” 

Geralt’s laugh was more of a scoff as he felt the more-or-less accidental brush of Jaskier’s cock against his. 

“You’re one to talk,” he groaned, getting his hand into Jaskier’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. “Have you seen yourself, Professor?” 

Jaskier suddenly pulled back, eyes wide and cheeks pink. “I- well- I mean I’m nothing close to- Your body is,” he huffed, seemingly at loss for words which was a  _very odd thing_ coming from Jaskier. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, bringing his hand to the small of the man’s back, and squinted. “You know you’re hot, right?” he asked seriously and witnessed Jaskier dissolve into a fit of giggles, ducking his head and blushing even harder. 

“I’m- nah, I’m not-”

“ _Jaskier_ ,” Geralt repeated with intent.

“I mean, I’m fine but I’m not- you’re like a, a- an underwear supermodel.” 

Geralt snorted. “Right, they do love bodies covered with scar tissue in underwear magazines,” he said self-deprecatingly, making Jaskier frown. 

“Don’t do that. You’re beautiful,” he chastised. 

“If you say so-” Geralt shrugged. 

“I  _do_ say so.  _Les Dessous de Beauclair_ can go fuck itself,” Jaskier replied and Geralt snorted again. 

“Point still stands,” Geralt said. “You’re hot.”

Jaskier looked away again, biting his lower lip. “Wh-,” he started and then closed his mouth right away. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing,” he shook his head. 

“Jaskier? I’m the one who isn’t much of a talker. There can’t be two of us,” he said, and Jaskier laughed, then hid his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s shoulders. 

“What do you like about me?” he asked, his voice so small Geralt barely heard him. He let a moment pass, wondering where to start and how. He slid a hand at the back of Jaskier’s neck, caressing the short strands of hair. 

“This,” he said. “Your hair right here. It’s short but long enough that I can grab it,” he felt Jaskier smile against his neck. 

" _Kinky_ ," Jaskier whispered.

“And I like your eyes,” Geralt said, too focused on picking the right words to get sidetracked. “At the bar, I-” he hesitated, pacing himself. “I noticed your eyes first,” he said and swallowed. 

Jaskier hugged him tighter. “I love your eyes too,” he mumbled into Geralt’s hair. "They're incredible."

Geralt managed to duck his head and press a soft kiss below Jaskier’s ear. “Your cheekbones,” he said, his mouth finding the sweet spot at the base of Jaskier’s neck. “Your shoulders,” he whispered, kissing Jaskier’s clavicle, loosening their embrace to keep going lower. “Your collarbones,” he nipped his teeth at the bone above Jaskier’s chest, “they’re really, really hot,” he said and Jaskier giggled, still hiding his face by pressing his forehead against Geralt’s temple.

Geralt brought his hands up Jaskier’s back and felt him shiver, Jaskier’s hips startling gently against his, bringing a soft moan from the both of them. “Your back,” he said, “I really love your back- and your ass,  _gods_ ,” he linked his hands behind Jaskier’s neck and rolled his hips, their moans echoing through the room. “ _Ah_ , and those fucking arms of yours,” Geralt whispered. “Have you seen those arms?” he repeated, still softly rubbing their cocks together with slow movements of his hips and caressing Jaskier’s arm. “I’m sure you could lift me up with those arms,” he said and Jaskier groaned. “Would you like that?” he asked. “Would you- would you like to hold me up and fuck me?” 

“Oh, fuck,” Jaskier moaned, his face pressed against Geralt’s cheek. “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes please, yes,” he begged, and Geralt grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and pulled just enough for Jaskier to whine with pleasure as they both rushed in an almost bruising kiss. 

Jaskier had a hard time pulling away from Geralt, but finally managed to turn towards the bedside table to retrieve lube and condoms. 

Geralt flushed himself against his back, tearing a moan from Jaskier as his hand directly went for Jaskier’s cock and Geralt’s dick rubbed against his ass. 

“Oh fuck, yeah-  _yeah_ , we gotta do this some time too, darling,” he panted and Geralt groaned, grinding against him.

“You would like that?” he breathed, his voice low and coated with desire. 

“Gods, I’d fuck you anyway you want, darling-” he moaned, “-but  _fffuck_ , if you keep going, there isn’t going to be much left of me.” 

Geralt chuckled against him. He pulled back, freeing Jaskier from his embrace and sitting back against the wall. 

Jaskier kneeled in between his legs and tore the package open, sliding the condom on his cock, realising after raising his eyes that he was under Geralt’s scrutiny. 

“You okay?” he asked at the exact moment Geralt breathed “Come here.” 

Somehow they crashed into each other, and yet fit each other’s shapes perfectly. 

Geralt raised on his knees, thighs parted, Jaskier’s hands moving from his cock to his balls, making his hips jerk and his teeth close on Jaskier’s lower lip as he moaned. Jaskier slid his fingers further, caressing the sweet spot of Geralt’s perineum, making Geralt break the kiss as he gasped. 

“Fuck, please, Jask-” 

“I’ve got you,” Jaskier murmured, kissing him again and coating his fingers with lube. 

Geralt tried his hardest not to jerk himself off here and now, attempting to focus on rubbing Jaskier’s cock while his other arm rested around the man’s neck. 

Jaskier teased the rim of his asshole and got a quick return on his investment as Geralt pulled a little harder on his dick, tearing a moan from his lips. He chuckled a bit breathlessly and slid a finger inside Geralt easily. It didn’t take long at all before a second finger joined the first. 

“You okay, darling?” Jaskier breathed and Geralt nodded against his cheek. 

For a while, they stayed like this, settled against each other, Jaskier slowly fingering him until Geralt couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers and asking for more. 

When three fingers curved into him and caressed his prostate, Geralt thought he was going to come undone. “Fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaskier-,” 

“Good?” Jaskier asked a bit worriedly. 

“Fuck,  _yes_ , good,” Geralt bit in a tone that was halfway between  _“how the fuck could it be anything but good”_ and  _“don’t you fucking dare stop”_ , making Jaskier laugh again.

“Okay, darling- still love the enthusiasm,” Jaskier said while Geralt whined and begged until finally, fucking finally, Jaskier agreed he was ready. Jaskier slid between his thighs, his strong, well-built arms around Geralt’s middle and Geralt realised it was probably the first time he had been held like this in his entire life. 

“Touch yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, his mouth against Geralt’s before Geralt shook his head. 

“Can’t- gonna come if I do,” he breathed and Jaskier kissed him again. 

“Please?” he asked. “I want to make sure it feels good,” he whispered, holding onto Geralt’s middle tighter. 

Geralt complied and before long Jaskier’s hips were rising to meet his body. He felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock slide between his buttcheeks and touch the soft of his ass and he startled, pulling away and pressing back against Jaskier just as fast. 

“Fuck,” he swore as Jaskier whined. “Please, Jask,” he moaned as the hand on his cock started shaking. He then felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock against him again, and the steady push of Jaskier’s hips as the head of Jaskier’s cock entered him. He whined as Jaskier pushed further and lowered himself as slow as he could with the lone strength of his thighs and Jaskier’s arms wrapped around his waist. 

"Ok?" Jaskier asked breathlessly. A gasp was all Geralt managed. His thoughts were an endless thread of fuck fuck  _fuck_ he couldn’t sort out in any order. "Yea- ah," he broke, " _fuck_ ," 

"Is it too much?" Jaskier asked, "I can- I can stop, do you need me to stop?"

" _Don't_ ," Geralt moaned, clenching every single muscle in his body to keep Jaskier against him and eliciting a cry from Jaskier. His arms were around Jaskier's shoulders, his forehead against the man's temple. Geralt was holding onto him with everything he got.

"I just-" he tried to take a slow long breath thinking about everything he had learned through meditation and managed one ragged breath. "You're a lot," he managed in a sigh, clenching around Jaskier despite how much he tried to relax. 

Jaskier's breath caught in his throat half-way between pleasure and laughter. "I get that all the time," he said cheekily.

"Don't- don't make me laugh," he said, chuckling breathlessly, and Jaskier joined him, both trying to breathe through the involuntary clenching of Geralt's inner muscles and the accidental movements of Jaskier's hips.

They laughed into each other's mouths as they kissed, mouth open, tongues licking each other's lips, teeth biting softly, teasingly. When they were both ready, Jaskier pulled himself down as he helped Geralt raise on his knees and they met again, moaning and groaning. 

"You ok?" Jaskier whispered again and by then, Geralt had no fucking idea. He had never felt so tense and relaxed at once, uncomfortable but so fucking fantastic. His nerves and his ass were on absolute fire but it was good, it was good, it was so,  _so-_

"So good," he growled, aware that every part of his body was probably shaking in Jaskier's arms. " _Ah_ , don't stop," he moaned, and Jaskier, incredible, astonishing, wonderful Jaskier  _did not stop_ . 

Their hips moved in sync, feeding Geralt with the kind of friction he had never imagined could feel so good. 

He let himself relax entirely into Jaskier's embrace, sliding against the whole length of Jaskier's body, pressing torso against torso, his forehead against Jaskier's sweaty fringe, their noises brushing, their mouths breathing the same air. 

"Ye-ah?” Jaskier moaned. “You like it? You really-  _ah_ , fuck- you-  _ah_ , you feel so good, does it feel good, tell me-" he rambled, far, so far from actually needing the reassurance.

Geralt groaned. " _Yes_ ," he whined, "I like it, I like it, I like  _you_ , please," and Jaskier whined and then did something- Geralt didn't know, something, somehow, maybe went harder or faster or different, but he pulled and pushed and Geralt lost his fucking mind. He did it again and again, kissing Geralt, licking his neck, biting on his earlobe, caressing his nipples, bruising his hips in his grasp, pulling on his cock, whispering into his ear and making him whine and moan and shout until Geralt begged to be undone.

"I've got you, love," Jaskier said, "I've got you." Jaskier pulled harder on his hips in a half-broken groan, making Geralt slip towards him a little more. 

Geralt arched his back, moaning in delight from the new angle. His neck was left exposed for Jaskier to kiss and lick, and  _breathe_ against Geralt's skin. Every cell in Geralt’s body was burning and electric, and boiling. Everything felt so good and so much and so  _Jaskier_ , so he begged, begged again, and again for Jaskier to hold him and kiss him and fill him as he came, and so he did. He came, held, and kissed, and filled, and perfect, and Jaskier came, too, gasping into his mouth as they fell into each other. 

For a moment, there was no other sound apart from the unsteady breathing and an occasional moan from the two of them as they slowly, comfortably, came back down to earth. Jaskier moved first, turning his head to kiss Geralt’s cheek, pushing his long white hair away from his face, and Geralt turned his head lazily towards him, leaning into a kiss. 

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered, probably for the hundredth time and Geralt, for the thousandth time, hummed and nodded. Soon they would detach from each other, groaning from the discomfort of their sensible muscles, their come-dirtied bellies and lube-stained sheets anything but glamorous. 

But for the time being, they laid their heads against each other’s shoulders, eyes closed, content with the feeling of holding and being held.

"Hey," Jaskier whispered. 

Geralt hummed questioningly. 

"Stay for breakfast?" Jaskier asked. He missed the soft smile that drew on Geralt's lips. 

“Hmm.”

**Author's Note:**

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